Alone
by Imaginigma
Summary: While playing with his friend, little Legolas gets lost and finds himself in a situation that could be more scary than his little elfling heart can take.[Teitho Boo Contest 3rd place]
1. Let the games begin

**Title: **Alone

**Rating:** K+

**Warning:** Boo! (it might be better to turn the lights on while reading, just a suggestion)

**Disclaimer:** Mine, all mine! turns around slowly Ahhhh! No, Mr. Tolkien, they are yours and yours alone! Ahhhh runs away screaming .

**A/N:** Written for the Teitho Challenge "Boo!" (3rd place winner story). Legolas is six in human years. Are you scared yet? No? Read, and you will be…

_**Summary: **While playing with his friend, a young Legolas gets himself into a very frightening situation, one that will cost him more than he might be able to give._

* * *

"_No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of _

_acting and reasoning as fear"_

Edmund Burke

* * *

**Part 1/2: Let the games begin...**

Winter had come to the forest of Greenwood the Great, or Mirkwood, as it was now called by most races of Middle Earth. It had snowed since days and the surrounding lands and plains were covered in whiteness, the ice on the rivers thick, the sky of a cloudy grey that made the world look misty and strange.

Shining snowflakes were dancing in the wind, powdering the treetops and the making the leafless branches creak under the heavy load. It was quiet outside, the animals of the forest either hibernating or too cold to leave their warm nests, no birds were singing, no insects buzzing through the air.

The only sound that filtered through the cold air was the eventual drop of snow from branches or the whining of a horse. The elven sentries that patrolled this part of the forest made no sounds, their footsteps barely touching the snow, their cloaks not moving in the slight wind. Neither were they heard nor seen. It was the gift of the eldar to be invisible when wished to be. A gift, that all the elder elves had mastered, but that the younger ones had still to learn.

As another gust of wind blew the crystal flakes of white around the corners of the palace of the royal family of Mirkwood, soft footsteps could be heard rushing over the cold stone floor. It was shortly past noon and the young elf who walked through the hallways, constantly looking over his shoulder, then to his left, that to his right, his long blond hair trailing behind him, bright blue eyes scanning his surroundings eagerly, had just finished his last lesson for the day.

Legolas Thrandulion, Prince of Mirkwood, was a good and talented pupil, but as all young elflings he was glad that his lessons were over for the day and that he could now play with his friend. When he had been released by his teacher half and hour ago, his friend had already waited for him outside his study room, eager to play during the afternoon.

As it was still snowing outside, they were not allowed to venture to the gardens or into the vast courtyard, and so they had decided to play their favourite game. A game the palace seemed to be made for, with his many rooms and stairs, chambers and halls. This afternoon they would play.

They would play hide and seek.

It had been young Legolas´ first turn to seek his friend, but he had found him rather easily, as he had been hiding behind a huge stone pillar that stood in one of the halls. The prince had not seen his friend at first and just as he had been to turn around and leave the room again, a gust of wind had made the candles flicker. Intrigued, Legolas had come closer and then found his friend behind the statue.

Now it was Legolas´ turn to hide. After making sure that his friend had closed his eyes, his back turned to him and counting loudly, the young elfling had sneaked out of the room as quietly as he had been able to, only to break into a run the moment he had left the room.

For minutes he had searched for a hiding place, but nothing had seemed good enough. The cabinet on the first floor? No, too easy. The great hall with the many curtains? No, too far away. Where should he go, where could he hide?

Hide and seek was Legolas´ favourite game, as he was very good at it. Sometimes it took hours for his friend to find him, but never ever had the young prince found a hiding place that his friend had not found. But this day, this day would be different. Today Legolas would find the perfect place, a place which his friend would not find.

Walking swiftly round another corner, the prince felt his stomach flip a little. The time must have run out by now. His friend would begin his search and if he did not find a place to hide soon, this game would be over before it had really started and Legolas had no intention to losing. Not this time.

Reaching a flight of stairs, the elfling looked over his shoulder and, seeing no one, rushed up the stone steps and into another long corridor. Scanning the paintings on the walls and the doors that he passed as he went, Legolas came to the conclusion that he had never been in this corridor before. The palace of his father was great and being a young elf, he had not yet seen all the rooms or ventured through all the corridors.

Frowning, the prince turned to his right and tried to open a huge wooden door. Perhaps he could hide in the room, maybe under a bed or behind a desk? But no, the handle would not turn, the door stayed closed. Sighing under his breath, the elfling turned and headed down the hall and, reaching the end, climbed up another flight of stairs that lead him further up.

It was colder here, the stone floor under his feet rebounding the coldness of the winter season. No tapestries decorated the walls, only a few candles burned, some torches send their light flickering over the walls. It was darker, too.

For a short moment Legolas wondered why it was so cold and dark here, so high up in the building, but with a shrug he abandoned the thought. He had a hiding place to find, and soon.

He met no other elves on his way down the hallway, no sound floated to his fine ears. Maybe he could find a place here. When he rounded a corner, he entered an even darker corridor, a little dust covered the ground, small spider webs decorated the corners. Spiders? It was an eerie thought that spiders dwelled in the palace.

From the servants and warriors the prince had heard stories about the huge eight eyed monsters that lived in the forest, animals that ate elflings and hunted them at night. He had heard of dungeons and prisoners, cellars full of monsters and attics that housed spiders as big as ponies. Shuddering a little, Legolas walked on, leaving almost no footprints in the dust as he passed.

His heart beating a little faster, the prince already felt his friend behind him, although the elf was still far away from his position. A hiding place. He needed to find one, the sooner the better. Glancing around him, his keen eyes suddenly lit and he rushed forwards.

There! At the other side of the corridor, a wooden door stood ajar, the old wood grey , the handle rusty. Looking inside, the elfling felt his stomach flip again. This was perfect! Glancing over his shoulder and back at the deserted hallway that lay behind him, Legolas grinned sheepishly and walked through the door. This was so good! His friend would never find him here.

Behind the door lay no room, as the prince had anticipated, but a low and narrow corridor, the walls dark and cold, only one single torch illuminating the way. To his left, two doors seemed to lead to other rooms, but as Legolas tried to enter them, he discovered that they were locked. To his right, another door lead to a room or corridor, but it was locked as well. Turning around in the gloomy hall and biting his lower lip, his blue eyes flew over the walls. There just had to be a place…

Suddenly, he saw it. Within only a few moments the young elf had reached the alcove and, after making sure that it was big enough, he reached up and pulled his slim body into the stone alcove. It was not very big, but wide enough for him to sit up and rest against the wall with his back without his legs dangling out. Making sure that his tunic was inside the hole, Legolas reached out and pulled the heavy curtain closed. He did not know what the curtain was for, but it was a perfect hiding place.

Resting his head at the cold stone wall behind him and pulling his knees up to his chest, he strained his ears and listened. A small smile spread over his face. His friend would never find him here. Never. This time he would win and tonight, he would tell his ada. How proud the King would be!

Hours passed. No sound reached his ears, no one entered the corridor, no one came even near to his hiding place. With the stillness came tiredness and before the young elf realized what happened, his bright eyes glazed over in sleep, his head lolled to the side, his blond hair resting on his slim shoulders. Sleep claimed the elfling, a sleep so deep that he never heard the soft elven footsteps that neared the old grey door or the sound as it was closed, the rusty hinges creaking slightly, shutting out the light from the main corridor and plunging the narrow corridor in almost complete darkness. Neither did he hear the rattling of the metal keys or the soft click that the lock made as the key was turned.

When the afternoon turned into evening, the snow still falling outside and the coldness creeping over the lands, Legolas woke with a huge yawn. Had he been asleep? He had not even realized that he had been tired…

Looking around, a strange feeling entered his stomach. Something was different, something had changed. The light seemed darker and it was so silent. Frowning slightly and rubbing the last traces of sleep out of his eyes, the prince reached out and drew the curtain away.

Darkness surrounded him, only lifted by the single torch that hung on the wall opposite the alcove. Why was it so dark? Stretching his numb legs Legolas crawled out of his hiding place. Landing on his feet steadily, he grinned slightly. It must be evening already. His friend had not found him. He was won! His ada would be very proud of him.

Turning to the old door and the hall he had come from, his smile faded from his face. The door. It was closed. Why was the door closed? Had he shut it as he had entered the corridor? Not sure whether he had done so or not, Legolas neared the door and gripped the handle. Turning it he pushed at the old wood.

Nothing.

He tried it again, pulling this time, but the old door did not move and inch. With a jolt in his stomach, the prince took the handle in both hands and pushed and pulled with all his might, but try as he might, the wood did not move, the door not budge. It was locked. And he was trapped.

Fear settled in his stomach. He was trapped.

He was all...alone.

**To be continued...on thursday this week!**

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**So, tell me, what do you think of it? Good? Bad? Anything in between?**


	2. Into the dark

**Title: Alone**

**Rating:** K

**Warning:** Boo! (it might be better to turn the lights on while reading, just a suggestion)

**Disclaimer:** Mine, all mine! turns around slowly Ahhhh! No, Mr. Tolkien, they are yours and yours alone! Ahhhh runs away screaming .

**A/N:** Written for the Teitho Challenge "Boo!". Legolas is six in human years. Are you scared yet? No? Read, and you will be…

_**Summary: **While playing with his friend, a young Legolas gets himself into a very frightening situation, one that will cost him more than he might be able to give._

* * *

"_No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of _

_acting and reasoning as fear"_

Edmund Burke

* * *

**Part 2/2: Into the dark...**

_Nothing._

_He tried it again, pulling this time, but the old door did not move and inch. With a jolt in his stomach, the prince took the handle in both hands and pushed and pulled with all his might, but try as he might, the wood did not move, the door not budge. It was locked. And he was trapped_.

His feeling of victory turned into uneasiness, then slight fear.

Taking a step backwards, the elfling took a deep breath. Someone must have come and locked the door as he had been asleep. Why had he not heard him? Because elves are soundless if they want to be. Elves make no sounds, that is why he had not heard the one who had locked the door.

Sighing, Legolas looked down the poorly lit corridor. The doors on either side were locked too, he knew that, and the end of the hallway was lying in the darkness, so he could not see where the hall was leading to.

Blinking against the darkness, the prince went through his options, all the time trying to ignore the feeling of uneasiness that crawled over his being.

He could yell until someone heard him. But who would hear him here? The corridor had looked as if there had been no one for ages.

He could find something and knock at the door. Perhaps a servant would hear him. No, same problem. No one would hear him if not for all the luck in arda.

Then, there was still the corridor. Perhaps it would lead him out.

Sighing, the small elf glanced at the door and tugged a strand of blond hair behind his ear. After taking a long look at the darkness that lay behind him, the took a deep breath and then, yelled as loud as he could.

Again and again he lifted his voice and called out for help, but his attempts were in vain. No one heard him, no one answered. After a very long time for one so small, Legolas let his last call echo down the passage and into nothingness. Dropping his head, he sniffed miserably. His throat was aching and his head pounding from all the yelling. Why had he not been heard?

Sniffing once more, he took another deep breath and then wiped angrily at the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He was no mere elfling anymore who would cry over everything. Fine. If no one heard him, then he would find a way out of this on his own.

Turning away from the door, Legolas took hold of the flickering torch and then, after another deep breath, set out down the dark corridor. He would find his way out. The darkness would not harm him, his ada had told him that more than once. Darkness was just the absence of light. Nothing to fear.

But as he set out into the blackness, his soft footsteps echoing from the walls, he felt a painful jolt in his stomach. He repeated it over and over in his head. There was nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. Or was there?

Soon the grey old door had disappeared behind him and the light of the torch was the only bright spot that lifted the darkness around him. With shuffling steps the young prince walked down the hallway, the light of the torch throwing flickering shadows on the walls, fighting against the overpowering shadows and creating eerie movements were there actually were none.

As he went, the small isle of light he was carrying showed him only a fragment of the corridor, never the whole and the darkness before and behind him made him feel uneasy. Rounding another corner, Legolas stopped in his tracks abruptly. Had there been a sound? Right before him? Had there been someone…or something?

His heart pounding fast in his breast, his breathing quickening, the prince strained his ears, his eyes piercing the darkness before him. So he stood for a minute, his senses on alert, his small hand gripping the torch so tight his knuckles turned white.

Just as he let out the breath he had been holding, sure that his ears had played a trick on him, he heard it again. Nearly jumping in his fright, Legolas stepped back quickly. There! A squeaking reached his ears, followed by the soft sound of small feet hushing over stone.

A rat!

Lifting his torch, the young elf tried to locate the animal, but no matter how quick he was, the rat was faster. As soon as the light touched the corner the animal was hiding in, it would escape into the shadows.

Legolas shuddered. He hated rats. They were so small and quiet, so quick and…mean. He had heard stories from the older elflings. About rats that were as big as dogs, with fangs as sharp as those of wolves. They would sneak into the rooms of small elflings and try to eat them while they slept. But that were just stories that the older ones told to frighten the younger ones. Or were they?

Gripping the torch even tighter, his heart beating fast in his chest, his whole body shivering slightly, the prince walked on. The sooner he walked on, the sooner he would get out of this place. Aye, he would find an exit soon.

He wanted to get away from the rats, oh, just away. He could not see them, but he knew they were there, and that was even worse.

Walking down the dark hallway, his ears strained, he could hear the rat behind him, but the one was soon joined by others and before Legolas knew what he was doing, his legs had moved on their own and he was running down the corridor, desperately whishing to leave the parasites behind him, to escape the scraping sound of their feet, the soft noises they made when they brushed against each other, the red eyes that seemed to stare at him from the shadows.

His breath coming in short gasps, his side burning with an inner fire, he finally slowed his steps and stopped running and walked nervously on, the torch in his hand already burned low, the light it gave growing weaker with every minute that passed.

Gulping, the prince directed his gaze from the torch to the way before him. For how long was he now already walking through this halls? There had to be an exit somewhere. There just had to be…

As his soft footsteps sounded faintly from the stone floor, he suddenly felt something cold brush past his face. With a shriek he jumped back, his hand dropping the torch and his other hand wiping at his face furiously, trying to wipe away whatever it was that had touched him.

The torch sputtered on the stone floor, the light growing dimmer, then it steadied, but only for a few seconds. Flickering shadows danced once more along the walls, illuminating a huge spider web that hung in the hallway, spreading from wall to wall, and then the torch sputtered once more and with a final whooshing sound, the light giving wood died.

The corridor was plunged into complete darkness, so dark Legolas could not even see his hand before his very eyes. His heart beat so fast in his chest that it seemed to explode, his breath was coming rashly and irregular, his hands became sweaty and his legs felt wobbly. Oh no, oh please. Not the light. He needed the light!

Swallowing, Legolas felt panic rise. Tears came to his eyes. He wanted to flee, to turn and run, to head back to where he had come from, but he could not move. The thoughts raced in his head. Behind him where the rats, he could not turn back. But before him…

He had seen the silvery web, the huge web that was spreading from side to side. If he wanted to go one, he would have to, he would have to…

The thought alone made his skin crawl and he felt as if a spider was already stalking over his back on icy legs. A hand seemed to clench around his heart and squeeze it so tightly that it hurt. He could not go on. What if the spider was still there?

With eyes bigger than any spider that he had ever seen, Legolas felt his body go numb, then he started to tremble uncontrollably. Goose bumps covered his arms and sweat appeared on his brow, his face turning the shade of milk. A thought had crossed his mind, unwanted and sending him into a state of sheer panic. What if the spider was sitting here somewhere? Sitting… above him?

Slowly, he lifted his head to the ceiling.

Fear gripped him. He felt his breath catch in his throat, his legs trembled, his stomach churned, sweat rolled down his spine and he felt a whimper rise in his throat. Tears once more filled his eyes.

He wanted to get out, away from here, to his ada. He wanted his ada. Sniffing, Legolas took a shaky breath. What should he do?

Suddenly, he heard a soft sound coming from the ceiling, a sound as if a hairy leg was scraping over stone. Before the horrid thought had truly settled in his mind, he was racing forwards, right into the spiders web, his hands tearing at the strings, his face touching the web, his breath hitching.

He wanted to run, away from here. Just away. Within moments he had freed himself from the web and then he ran down the corridor, his legs moving on their own account, his left hand scraping over the wall to steady him and to help him find the way, the other stretched before him.

He ran and ran, tears streaming down his face. When he fell he jumped to his feet, when he reached a corner he took the passage that seemed to be brighter than he other. Soon his clothing was dusty, his knees littered with bruises and his hands scratched.

On and on he went, his mind screaming at him to run as fast as he could. Fear had gripped him, overwhelmed him, made him numb to his pain and weariness.

After what seemed like days but had actually only been a few hours, his right hand felt the soft structure of wood under his fingers. Skidding to a halt, Legolas sniffed loudly. Oh please, let it be a door!

Searching with both his hands, not minding the additional scratches and splinters, he soon discovered that it was indeed a door. The wood under his touch felt warmer than the walls and as he looked at the floor, his teary eyes detected a soft glow coming from the other side of the door.

Searching frantically, his hands finally found the handle and he desperately pulled with all his might. Then he pushed. Howling in frustration, he kicked the door half heartedly.

It was locked.

All strength seemed to leave him. His legs buckled under him, he sank to the floor on his knees, his arms useless at his side, his head bowed, his blond hair that had come lose from his fine breads hanging in his face.

Sobs shook his body, tears rolled freely down his face. He felt so lonely, so helpless, so alone. All he wanted was to get out of here, to go back to the light and the warmth…to his ada.

He was so imprisoned by his misery and fear of never leaving this dark and horrid place again, of never seeing his ada again, of having to stay in the blackness that surrounded him, alone and abandoned, that he did not hear the soft footsteps that neared the door from the other side.

Sniffing, Legolas could not suppress another sob and a soft hitching howl. He wanted to get out. Oh, how he wished he had never entered the passageway.

In just that moment the footsteps passed the door and then stopped, only to turn around and walk up to the door again. Had the young and terrified elfling listened, he would have heard the rustling of robes on the stone floor, and the sound of a head being pressed at the door.

But Legolas did not hear it, and so he was frightened to death as it suddenly rattled before him and the door creaked and then slowly opened, letting light stream into the room. It hurt his eyes as they had become accustomed to the darkness through the long hours that he had ran through the corridor.

Sitting on the cold floor, he lifted his head and looked up with teary eyes, seeing only a tall shadow stand in the doorway. Holding his breath he watched with wide eyes as the figure reached down, then stayed stiff as strong arms circled around his shivering form and lifted him from the floor.

Burying his head into the shoulder of the elf who had found him, he sobbed even harder, his heart pounding so fast that he felt light-headed. Tears still leaked from his eyes and he sniffed into the tunic of his saviour.

Legolas did not know how long he was carried through the palace, did not notice the low whispers that was spoken with the elf who carried him. Finally, after long moments, he heard a soft knock and then another door that was being opened.

He was lifted from his saviours arms and into other arms, strong arms, arms that he knew so well. He turned his face and buried his tear strained face into the tunic of his father's shoulder, breathing in the scent of grass and paper that seemed always to engulfe his ada. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. His ada!

His sobs increased even more, but this time from pure relief. He was with his ada, he was safe.

The whispered conversation between his father and the other elf did not register in his head, but he heard as the door closed and then the soothing voice of his ada that was telling him to calm down, that all was well and that he was safe now.

With one hand rubbing his son's back and the other stroking the sweaty hair out of his elflings´s eyes, the King went to the cosy chair that stood near the warming fire in his own private chambers and settled down. Reaching for a blanket, he wrapped it around the shivering elfling, all the while talking soothingly to him.

It took long until the trembling ceased, the tears dried and the sobs ended. And it took even longer until Legolas had found the courage to tell his father all that had happened.

The rest of the night was spent in his father's arms, snuggled into the blanket, with warm milk and cookies, the fire warming them. And as the snow continued to fall outside, the King looked lovingly down upon his sleeping son, his hand tucking a strand of blond hair behind a finely pointed ear. A proud smile graced hisfair face.

The next day, the King and his son started with a new lesson. They explored every room and every passage of the palace, climbed every flight of stairs, learned the direction of each corridor. The building was so big that it took them a few days until they had reached the last room and the last passageway.

And after that, the King of Mirkwood taught his son one more thing, he showed him how to whistle with his fingers and how to do it even without them.

It was their special signal. Thranduil told his elfling, that when he was ever lost again, he should whistle, and he would find him.

And Legolas was never lost again.

The end.

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I hope you like this little story, it was fun writing it. So, what do **you** think, a god/bad/well...Legolas and Thranduil story? 


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